Shattered
by BK Love-ah
Summary: Stan overhears Chelsea, his 15-year-old neighbor he'd helped several years earlier, saying bad things about him at the store. He decides to make her more than sorry before killing her. This is a very dark story. Don't like, don't read. I DO NOT OWN DEATH AND CREMATION, just my original character. R&R.
1. Chapter 1

_**Here's chapter 1. I hope you like it.**_

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_ Chelsea Randall was in great pain. All she wanted to do was take her bike out for a nice ride, absorb the sunlight…but a gaping pothole sending her flying out of her seat was not part of the plan._

_ The little nine-year-old stared at the bloody scrape on her knee, unable to hold back her tears. She looked around, praying that her dad would magically show up and take her home, but no such luck. All she could do was pull her knees to her chest and glance around the empty street._

_ "Chelsea?"_

_ She gasped slightly, turning towards the voice. Her heart sank slightly as she saw her older neighbor, Stan, exit his house and approach her. _

_ She'd seen him around a little bit. Her father had borrowed a pair of hedge shearers from him after they'd first moved into the neighborhood. He wasn't very talkative, but he was friendly enough. Still, something about him struck a false note with her. He just gave her the creeps. _

_ When he finally reached her after crossing the street, Chelsea tried not to meet his eyes. Stan was oblivious to this as he knelt down next to the teary-eyed girl and looked at her knee._

_ "Oh, you poor thing," he muttered, reaching into his pocket. "Here."_

_ Stan pulled out a handkerchief and carefully gripped Chelsea's wounded leg with his other hand. He gently started to dab at the scrape. The girl winced in pain, but after a little while, the bleeding slowed down. She glanced at her neighbor out of impulse._

_ He seemed to be concentrated on her injury, so he didn't notice the child's stares. Her young eyes were drawn to the man's odd appearance. His clothes were slightly worn out, and his glasses were very dark in contrast with his deathly pale skin. After noticing several sores and dry patches on Stan's face, Chelsea made herself look away._

_ "Come on," Stan said, taking her arm and gradually lifting her up. "Let's get you inside, and I'll call your dad."_

_ The girl reluctantly complied. After being set onto the dusty couch, she listened as Stan spoke with her father in the other room. The overall appearance of the house made her skin crawl. It was dark, musty, and quite eerie. When her dad finally picked her up, she was relieved._

_ "I'm glad you're okay," he said, glancing at her in the windshield mirror. "That was awfully nice of Stan to help you, wasn't it?"_

_ "Yeah," she muttered._

_ Still, as grateful as she was for the help, Chelsea couldn't shake off the creepy aura she'd felt from him._

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

_Buzz, buzz, buzz!_

Chelsea shot up in her bed and blindly felt around for her cell. Once she got it, she turned off the alarm before flopping back down onto the mattress. No sooner had she done so did her bedroom door open, revealing Roy, her father.

"Chelsea, time to get up."

"Five more minutes," the girl muttered, her voice muffled by the sheets.

"Come on, you don't wanna be late."

After relishing those final few seconds wrapped in her blankets, Chelsea finally got up.

"Why're you up so early?" she asked, noticing her father's unusual attire.

"I have a job interview today. I've gotta go to work right afterwards, so you probably won't see me until you get back tomorrow."

Chelsea nodded, remembering her own plans. After school, she had to report to her own cashiering job at the supermarket. She had plans to go to her friend Amanda's house for a sleepover once she clocked out of work, so she was looking forward to that.

"Good luck," she said as her father went out the door, shutting it behind him.

She sighed deeply before turning towards her closet to pick an outfit.

_Another day in paradise…_

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

Stan took a breath after placing the urn onto the shelf with the others. His insides beamed with pride at his actions. The remains were that of a woman he'd killed for wrongfully taking a parking spot.

_Good. One less bit of scum on the streets._

After straightening himself up a bit, he got into his car and drove off, heading to the grocery store. It wasn't too far away from his place, which was one of his favorite things about it. He didn't like straying too far from his comfort zone.

Once he pulled into the small parking lot, Stan wasted no time in walking towards the entrance. However, before going in, he moved his hat down the front of his head a bit more. He wanted to avoid as much human contact as he could.

Stan went in and took one of the shopping baskets, wrapping his elbow tightly around the handle. He took a quick glance around him before proceeding to the nearest aisle. But before he could take another step, he noticed something…some_one_.

_Chelsea…_

The little girl he'd helped out all those years ago was behind one of the registers, although she wasn't so little anymore. Probably around fourteen or fifteen. At the sight of her, Stan stood up a little bit more on his way to the produce section. It was as if the mere presence of Chelsea had strengthened his spine and boosted his confidence.

_Most people are dirty, mean…not her. She's innocent._

As he looked through the grapefruits, Stan looked forward to saying hello.

OOOOOOOOOOO

_Oh, no…_

Chelsea's insides felt like they were shrinking as she noticed her odd neighbor approaching her register. She still hadn't gotten over her squeamish feelings about him. Nevertheless, she mustered her customer service skills and forced a smile as he reached her.

"Hi," she said.

"Well, hello there."

"How are you today?"

"I'm doing fine." Stan started putting his items on the belt. "How about you?"

"Good, thanks."

As Chelsea started ringing up Stan's groceries, one of her co-workers, Brian, walked over and started placing them into a paper bag. Chelsea smiled at him. He went to school with her, and was in her history class. He flashed her a little wink, making her blush. She'd had a small crush on him for quite some time; it was one of the reasons she took a job at the store.

"What're you doing tonight, Chelsea?" Brian asked, smiling widely. "My buds and I were gonna go down to the diner. Feel like tagging along?"

Chelsea's heart raced, and she prayed her face wasn't too red.

"Oh, I'm actually going to Amanda's at around eight tonight for a sleepover."

"Too bad. Does your dad approve? I thought he didn't like you going out."

"No, he's fine with my girl friends. Besides, he's not gonna be home until really late."

"Ah." Brian finished packing Stan's things. "Maybe next time."

"Maybe," Chelsea replied with a smile of her own.

Stan tried not to roll his eyes at the young love. Still, he smiled as Chelsea handed him his receipt.

"Have a good day," she said.

"Thanks, you too. Say hi to your dad for me."

"Okay."

As he approached the door, Stan stopped to look at the newspapers near the service desk. While he was glancing at the front page, he couldn't help but hear the exchange at the register he'd just left.

"D'you know that guy?" Brian asked, leaning against the register counter.

"Yeah, he's a neighbor of mine."

"Huh. Weird dude."

Chelsea glanced over at Stan, and once she was sure he wouldn't hear her, she lowered her voice a bit before speaking.

"He creeps me out."

She found herself releasing her entire opinion, not just to impress her crush, but because she finally had an outlet to let it loose. Her dad was convinced that Stan was just a lonely man who was a bit quieter than most people, and would never listen to any of her complaints about him.

"And you live on the same street as him?" Brian asked incredulously.

"Yup. But I try not to think about it too much. He's…he's just a freak."

After a few moments, she glanced over at Stan's position once more, and was relieved to see that he was gone.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Stan slammed the door to his car a bit rougher than normal, and when he drove off, he had to restrain himself from going too fast.

The words he'd heard Chelsea describe him with truly tore his insides to shreds. True, he was used to people saying stuff about him; he would always deal with them accordingly. But this was _Chelsea_. Chelsea, the girl he'd gone out of his way to help, one of the only people he truly believed were good and untainted.

The rage and hurt sizzled inside him, but he made himself calm down. Unfortunately for Chelsea, Stan remembered what she'd said about being by herself that night before going to her friend's house. Her dad wouldn't be there to save her.

_Oh, Chelsea…you're going to regret saying those things. Enjoy today while you can._

A small smile appeared on Stan's face as he pulled into his driveway.

_I'll see you tonight._

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_**Let me know what you think.**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**And we're back. Read on.**_

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After what seemed like forever, Chelsea punched out at around six in the evening. The sun was almost gone. She hopped onto her bike and rode all the way home. While riding, she happened to pass Stan's place. Her insides twisted at the thought of him, but she also felt a bit guilty for saying the things she said. Still, it didn't take her very long to brush the thoughts aside.

Once she got home, she went into her room and took off her work uniform. A sigh of relief escaped her when she unhooked her bra and threw on her sweatshirt. After putting on her black sweat pants and a pair of socks, she had a quick Pop Tart before stuffing her clothes and toiletries into her duffle bag.

Just then, she remembered something.

_Oh, shit…I didn't lock up my bike!_

Chelsea slipped her sneakers on before running outside. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw her bicycle next to the fence where she left it. However, it wasn't secured in place, just as she'd feared. After grabbing the bike chain from around the wiring of the fence, she started wrapping it around the wheel.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, something smashed against the back of Chelsea's head. Before she had a chance to cry out, everything went black.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Stan lowered the wooden board and reached towards the unconscious girl. Fortunately for him, everyone on that street was either not home or already inside. The darkness concealed his actions perfectly.

He took both of Chelsea's upper arms and dragged her around the nearby bushes to where his car was waiting. It didn't take too much effort to lift her into the trunk, as she was fairly small for her age. Once she was sufficiently tucked away, Stan shut the door to the trunk and got into the driver's seat.

As he pulled away and headed towards his home down the road, he had to suppress a chuckle.

_I'm really going to enjoy this…_

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

Everything was dull and blurry.

Chelsea's eyes slowly fluttered open, and she carefully took in her surroundings. Her heart started pounding when she didn't recognize where she was.

She was on a dirty mattress, and it seemed like the room was underground. There was a very small window near the top of the wall across from her. She could see a few blades of grass poking up from the bottom of it, and the morning light was streaming through it. The whole room was made of cement. There was an old-looking toilet in the far corner, and a battered sink stood next to it.

Chelsea spotted a door next to the mattress. However, when she got up and tried to open it, the doorknob wouldn't turn. It was locked, and no matter how hard she tugged, it wouldn't budge.

She backed away as tears of panic filled her eyes, but she made herself take a breath.

_Easy. Dad always said never to panic in a dangerous situation. Just stay calm, and think of something… _

Glancing over at the tiny window, Chelsea ran over to it. She tried to jump upwards, but it was too high for her. Before she got a chance to look around for something to stand on, the door opened behind her. She turned around, and her heart skipped a beat.

"S-Stan?"

Her older neighbor closed the door behind him and took a step towards her.

"Hello, Chelsea."

His tone was unexpectedly casual, which made the girl even more afraid.

"Where am I?"

"Just in my basement. It's never been this clean, actually. It took me a while to clear it out for you yesterday."

Chelsea blinked, trying to stay calm.

"For…for _me?_"

"Yes," Stan answered, nodding calmly. "For you."

Confused, Chelsea had to take a shallow breath.

"I don't…I don't understand why I'm here, but…" She looked out the window and carefully moved towards the door. "…my dad's probably looking for me. Can I, you know…go home now?"

As if having read her mind, Stan stepped between Chelsea and the door, slowly shaking his head.

"No, you can't."

The fear intensified within the girl, and her courage started to crack.

"But…why? Please, I really need to…"

She made a dash for the door, but Stan grabbed her shoulders in a surprisingly tight hold and pushed her back. Chelsea was stunned, but she pressed on.

"Stan, I have to go home!" As she spoke, Stan turned away for a moment. "I'm missing school right now, and I'll have to work the night shift—"

Her sentence was cut off as Stan harshly struck her across the face. She cried out, mostly in shock. As she lifted a hand to cradle her throbbing cheek, she lifted her eyes to look at her assailant.

"Don't say another word, you little _bitch,_" he snarled.

Stan's face turned into a ferocious scowl. Before Chelsea could even ask what he was talking about, he took a threatening step towards her and spoke again.

"I may be a freak," he snapped, "but I ain't deaf."

After a moment or two, it finally registered in Chelsea's brain.

_Oh…he must've heard what I said about him._

She waited for a little while before speaking carefully.

"Okay. Stan, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that stuff."

Stan's gaze became even more sinister.

"You're _sorry?_"

Chelsea nodded, trying to appease him. However, something about the look in his eyes made chills go up her spine.

"No. I don't think you're the least bit sorry."

The girl went to say something, but Stan cut her off.

"But by the time I'm done with you, you'll be more than sorry."

Chelsea slowly backed up, hoping he wouldn't notice.

"By the time you're…what's that supposed to mean? What're you going to do?"

"You'll find out soon enough," Stan replied, a maniacal glimmer in his expression.

After a few moments, something in Chelsea snapped.

"Who do you think you are? You can't keep me here, so just—"

She tried to push her way past him, but he was too quick. In an instant, he grabbed the girl's arm and yanked her towards him, roughly fisting his free hand into her hair. Chelsea cried out in pain, desperately trying to wriggle away. But that only made it worse.

"I can't?" Stan asked through his teeth, tightening his grip. "I _can't?!_"

He dragged the terrified girl towards the small window. Chelsea tried to struggle, but was helpless against his ferocious grasp as he made her look outside. She could see the sign for the crematorium.

"Remember what I do here?" Stan asked, a dangerous undertone to his voice. "Tell me."

Despite knowing the answer, Chelsea didn't want to say it. However, Stan's tightening hold on her hair made her think differently.

"I-It's a cremating place," she said, her voice strained with her fear.

"And to cremate, what does that mean?"

"You…you burn dead bodies."

Satisfied with the girl's submission, Stan pulled her a bit closer to him and spoke into her ear.

"That's right, Chelsea. I burn dead bodies. But it's going to be a little different this time around. When you're truly sorry, you'll be begging me to kill you. And I'll grant your wish…but it won't be a dead body I'll be burning."

At this, a slight shiver of pure horror ran through Chelsea's spine, though she did her best to hide it.

"You…you've got to be joking…"

Stan took her shoulders and turned her around, pinning her to the dusty wall.

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Chelsea hesitated, but Stan immediately squeezed her tiny shoulders and shook her a bit. "_Answer me_."

"_No!_ No, you don't. You don't."

"Good answer."

He let go and started to leave, but the terrified girl took a cautious step forward.

"Stan, please, I'm so sorry! You have to believe me!" Stan slowly turned back to face her as she continued. "Listen, just let me go. If you let me go now, I won't tell anyone what happened. I promise!"

He looked at her for a long time.

_She's got the same fear in her eyes that she had when she fell off her bike…no, she isn't sorry at all, she's just scared for herself._

For a brief moment, Chelsea thought he would listen to her. But her hopes were dashed when his face hardened and he continued towards the door.

"I already told you. The day I let you go is the day I feel that you're _really _sorry. And even then, you won't be going anywhere."

With that, he left, leaving Chelsea all alone.

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Okay, well, call me if she shows up. Thanks."

Roy hung up the phone, his hand shaking a bit.

Amanda's mother had just called to say that Chelsea never showed up the previous night. Roy hadn't heard anything from his daughter that hinted at her not going to the sleepover, so needless to say, his worry was starting to spread like wildfire.

_She wouldn't just run off like this without telling me. There has to be something wrong…_

Not wasting another moment, Roy picked up the phone and called the police station.

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_**Let me know what you think.**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**And we're back. Read on!**_

**caity88-**** Thanks, I'm glad you're enjoying it so far =)**

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"Did she seem out of character in the least bit?"

"No," answered Roy, and the officer scribbled something in his notebook. "Everything seemed fine. I talked to the people at the market where she works, and they didn't notice anything out of the ordinary either."

While the officer wrote this down, Detective Matt Fairchild carefully got up from the chair he was sitting in and approached Roy.

"Well, Mr. Randall, this isn't a whole lot to go on, as you can probably imagine. But we'll definitely proceed with the investigation."

"Is there anything else I can do?" Roy asked.

"Yes, is there a recent photo of your daughter?"

Nodding, Roy walked over to the bookshelf and grabbed a framed picture of Chelsea. It was taken a few months earlier, so it would do just fine.

"Thanks," Fairchild said, taking the picture. "We'll start making some missing person posters for her so we can get the word out. Maybe someone else has seen her. In the meantime, make sure to stay in touch with us about any new developments."

"Okay, I will."

They shook hands, and the two officers left the house. Though he was comforted to know that the police were on the case, Roy was still horribly worried for his child.

_Chelsea…where are you?_

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Chelsea was left by herself until it was almost dark again. Since waking up in the basement, she was compelled to use the gross-looking toilet a few times, which did not help to ease her fears. All she could do was pace aimlessly, not wanting to touch the dirty mattress provided for her.

After a while, she heard the doorknob turn. She stopped pacing just in time to see Stan coming into the room with a bowl and spoon in his hand. He looked at her with the same gruffness Chelsea had seen earlier that day.

"Here," he said, placing the bowl on a rickety wooden table next to the mattress. "Eat."

Chelsea glanced at the bowl, and her stomach turned. It appeared to be some sort of meatloaf, but whatever it was, it seemed to have aged a little too much. After a few moments, she looked at Stan and spoke.

"Okay," she said, trying to force a smile. "I'll eat it in a little while. Thanks."

Stan's gaze hardened at this.

"You're going to eat it right now."

"I'm not hungry."

A few tense seconds went by before Stan started walking towards Chelsea, making her back up. It wasn't long before she was stuck in a corner, with Stan just a few feet away.

"Either you eat it now, or I'll feed it to you."

Chelsea wanted to call his bluff, but after everything else that had occurred that day, she knew he wasn't messing around. She carefully took the bowl and picked up the spoon. The smell was terrible, but she made herself take a small bite. Unfortunately, the taste was even worse than the smell. It took a while for her to even swallow it.

"Thank you," she said, holding the bowl towards Stan.

"_No,_" Stan told her sternly, as if scolding a toddler. "You're going to finish all of it."

"You're nuts! There's no way I'm eating that!"

Chelsea put the bowl on the floor and started walking away, only to be roughly shoved to the hard ground from behind. Before she could even try to get up, Stan straddled her back, pinning the girl's wrists behind her with his knees. He grabbed her hair with one hand, while using the other to scoop up a spoonful of the mushy food. When Chelsea cried out in pain, Stan lifted her head and jammed the spoon into her mouth. After taking it back out, he grasped Chelsea's jaw to prevent her from spitting the food out.

"Chew," he growled, viciously tightening his grip. "If you spit it out, you'll eat it off the floor."

Chelsea didn't want to give in, but the horrid stinging of her scalp was too much to bear. Tears streamed from her eyes as she made herself swallow the putrid mouthful. Once satisfied that she had obeyed him, Stan took the spoon and scooped up more of the meatloaf.

"Stop," Chelsea cried. "I'll eat, just _stop!_"

"You should've been more polite," Stan said, grasping the girl's hair and shoving the food in when she screamed.

After almost a half hour, the last of the meatloaf was finally gone. Stan got off of Chelsea and stood up. When his captive was too slow in following suit, he reached down and yanked her up by her arm.

"Now, what do you say?"

Chelsea had a good idea of what he wanted from her. She didn't want to give in, but she didn't want to test him any further.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"I didn't hear you."

"_Thank you_," Chelsea repeated in a shaky voice.

"That's better."

Stan pulled Chelsea towards the mattress and pushed her down, not even trying to be gentle. Then, as swiftly as he'd done so, he was out the door.

Chelsea heard the lock clicking, and a few seconds later, the light went out, leaving her in the dark. As she carefully lay down and curled herself up, she thought deeply about her predicament. Part of her didn't want to believe that Stan was serious about all his threats, but at the same time, another part of her knew he meant every word. She was definitely afraid, but a small voice inside her was telling her not to worry, because this couldn't possibly be happening. A few words of stupid gossip couldn't anger someone _this_ much…could it?

After a fairly long while, Chelsea's eyes finally started to get heavy.

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

The next morning, she was jolted awake by a door slamming. Her sleep-blurred eyes were able to make out Stan as he stood next to the mattress and placed a plate onto the rickety table.

"Get up."

Chelsea stretched out her muscles and tried to rise, but it wasn't quite fast enough for Stan. He reached down and grabbed her elbow, pulling her to her feet and practically throwing her against the hard wall. Chelsea barely had any time to recover before Stan spoke again.

"Eat," he said, pointing at the plate.

Chelsea followed his gaze, staring at the dish's contents. There were two pieces of gooey-looking bread. As much as she truly didn't want to touch it, Chelsea didn't want a repetition of the previous day. Despite the horrid taste of her breakfast, she bit back her protests and forced it down.

Once she was done, Chelsea backed away from the table, her brain overwhelmed by the disgusting flavor, and by the whole situation in general. She wrapped her arms around herself and flinched slightly as Stan approached her.

"Well?"

Chelsea looked at him, not wanting to give in.

"Aren't you going to thank me?"

Tears stung the girl's eyes as her anger got the best of her.

"For what? It was gross! How could you even think—?"

Her sentence was cut off as Stan snatched a fistful of her hair. She failed to hold back a shriek.

"How could I even think _what?_" Stan spat. "That this is good enough for you? You should be grateful to have anything to eat at all!"

He suddenly threw Chelsea roughly to the ground, forcing a squeal of pain from her. She slowly looked up at her attacker as he continued.

"You think you can have whatever you want? If you're so special, why'd your mommy leave you?"

That stung. Chelsea's mother had indeed left her and her father several years beforehand. Roy had always told her that her mother was a selfish woman who just wasn't ready for a family, and that it wasn't Chelsea's fault, but the girl had always had her doubts.

Tears filled her eyes as she shook her head.

"She…she wasn't ready for—"

"Oh, did your father tell you that? Of course he did. Why would he tell his perfect girl that her mother didn't want her?"

"That's not true!"

"No?" Stan replied, leaning down to look right into Chelsea's eyes. "If your mother really loved you, she wouldn't have abandoned you. How _could_ she love you? How could _**anyone**_love a miserable little brat like you?"

"_Stop_ it!" Chelsea begged, covering her ears.

Stan smirked at this, relishing the sight of the sobbing girl at his feet.

"What're you crying for? Is the truth really that hard for you to handle?"

Chelsea didn't dare look up as Stan bent down to her level.

"Do you want to thank me for your breakfast, or would you rather I give you something else to cry about?"

As much as Chelsea didn't want to give in, she didn't want this torment to go on for another second.

"Th-Thank you."

Nodding slowly, Stan carefully rose to his feet.

The moment he was gone, Chelsea buried her face into the mattress and cried, overcome by the heartbreak within her.

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_**Let me know what you think.**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Hello again! A word of warning…there is pretty nasty noncon in this chapter, so if that kind of thing disturbs you, exit this story now.**_

_**With that said, happy reading =)**_

**Freax-**** I'm glad you're enjoying it so far! And don't worry; Jarod is introduced in this chapter, and I do plan to make him more prominent in the future.**

**caity88-**** Haha, okay! Thanks =D**

**0000000000000000**

For the next several days, things were horribly tense. Chelsea didn't want to cause any trouble for herself, so she tried her best to obey Stan's demands to the best of her abilities. However, it didn't make him treat her any better. He still made her eat disgusting food, and took every opportunity to belittle her. Chelsea made herself ignore his horrid comments, but sometime she couldn't keep from talking back. That resulted in Stan bestowing more punishments upon her, even throwing her to the floor and kicking her at one point.

Despite the events of the week, Chelsea tried her best to cling to the thought of being rescued. Stan said her father had already asked if he had seen her, and he had denied it but wished the man luck with finding her. This did a lot to dampen the girl's hopes, but she made herself hang on.

_The cops have to find me at some point…right?_

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Stan didn't expect this young kid to walk into the funeral home and ask for a job. He was perfectly used to random jackasses coming in to harass him every once in a while, but nothing like this had ever happened. While he was reluctant in hiring the kid, something about him impressed Stan. He liked how he didn't seem put off by the funeral home, or by Stan's appearance. Heck, this guy looked pretty twisted himself. There was no harm in giving him a shot.

In the meantime, Stan was determined to break his prisoner. He had her in a highly frightened state, but the fact that she was still rebellious didn't sit well with him. All his other victims would immediately beg for their lives, claim they'd do anything to be released. That's what Stan needed, to see them in complete fear before crushing their brains in or beating the life out of them. But he wasn't seeing that in Chelsea yet. And as long as that was an ongoing thing, he had work to do.

_I'm running out of ways to hurt her. I'd like to cut her up or burn her, but I wouldn't want her dying of infection before I'm finished with her. There must be something else I can do, something that won't kill her, but can do some damage…_

OOOOOOOOOOOO

A few days later, Chelsea had just finished eating another rancid dinner, and Stan had left her alone yet again. Not too long afterwards, the girl could have sworn she heard the sound of his car starting. Her thought was confirmed when the sound went further away.

_Oh, thank God…_

Chelsea let out a breath of relief, thankful to have him far away for a change. She paced around her little room, trying to think encouraging thoughts.

_Just relish this, Chelsea. Use this time to remember how Dad's looking for you. Stan's not nearby, so he can't hurt you right now. He's…_

Something suddenly clicked with Chelsea, and she momentarily scolded herself with not seeing it before.

_He's gone! This could be my chance to escape!_

A week of pent-up adrenaline and hope ignited within her as she looked around, desperate to find a way to open the door. However, Stan had made the place immaculate, removing everything heavy enough to complete such a task. After a few minutes of scrambling around, Chelsea paused, resting her head in her hands in an effort to calm herself.

Then, she felt something in her hair and pulled it out.

_A Bobbi pin…of course!_

She ran to the door and started picking the lock. However, her hand was incredibly shaky, and it took her several tries to get the pin into the tiny little space. Her heart pounded as several minutes passed.

_Come on. Come on, you've got to work…_

Then, after about fifteen minutes, she heard a click. Not even bothering to retrieve the pin, Chelsea grabbed the knob and yanked the door open. She propelled herself up the dark stairs until she reached another door. After opening it, she found herself in a dusty coat closet. The smell of mothballs was quite overwhelming, and the girl couldn't help but cough for a few moments.

It took Chelsea a little while to reorient herself, but when she saw the front door leading outside, she went forward.

The sound of a car pulling to the driveway made her stop in her tracks.

_No. No, no, no. Please, not now!_

In her state of panic, Chelsea tried to clear her mind and think.

_I could go back downstairs, but who knows when he'll leave the house again? On the other hand, if he finds out I escaped, he'll be furious. What the hell do I…?_

Her eyes caught sight of a wooden bat leaning against a nearby wall. As she heard the car door open and shut, Chelsea ran over, grabbed the bat, and hid behind a corner of the room. The moment she hid herself, the front door opened.

Stan walked in and closed the door, locking it behind him. Chelsea tried not to breathe too loud as she kept her eye on her captor. A small shiver ran down her spine as Stan took off his hat, placed his keys on the counter, and made his way towards where she was hiding. She gripped the bat tightly as he got closer and closer.

_It's now or never. Do it!_

Chelsea swung the bat with all her might, hitting him hard in the back. Stan cried out in pain as he fell to the ground. The girl immediately backed up, keeping the bat raised as Stan slowly propped himself up with his arms.

"Let me out of here right now!" Chelsea yelled as Stan lifted his head to look at her. "I'll beat you to death if you don't, I swear!"

Something about the way Stan was looking at her nearly made her squirm. His expression was calm, but at the same time, he looked more dangerous than ever before.

"Try it."

Chelsea froze as the older man gradually got back to his feet. Despite her fear, she held the bat at the ready as Stan took a step towards her.

"Stay away," she warned, her voice betraying her fear.

"I thought you were gonna beat me to death," Stan taunted, not halting his movements. "Come on, let's see it."

After a few more steps backwards, Chelsea found herself against another wall. When Stan suddenly charged at her, she swung at him with the bat in a last moment of bravery.

He caught the bat before it could move two inches, ripped it from the girl's grasp, and immediately swung it at her leg. Chelsea yelped as a horrid pain shot up her thigh, but before she could bounce back from it, another hard whack sent her sprawling to the floor. Then, Stan bent down and grabbed her arm, yanking her back to her feet and practically throwing her in the direction of her prison.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Stan had gotten the squirming girl down most of the staircase, but in a brief moment of fury, he violently pushed her forward. Chelsea cried as she fell down the rest of the way, landing in a messy heap. She tried to scamper away, but Stan grabbed both her shoulders and threw her against a wall. He right-hooked her hard in the jaw, spitting her lip open. Momentarily distracted by the pain exploding across her face, Chelsea tried to push him away. Having none of that, Stan grabbed her wrists in both his hands and threw her onto her mattress.

"You _cow!_" he snarled. "You're gonna pay dearly for this."

"Oh, fuck you!" screamed Chelsea, ignoring the shock and anger on her attacker's face. "You can do whatever you want, but there's _nothing_ worse than what you've already done!"

This made Stan stop and think for a moment. A dark idea suddenly crossed his mind. It was definitely extreme, but he felt it was exactly what was needed. He paced for a couple of seconds before turning on Chelsea once again.

"Oh, so you think you're smarter, huh?" he asked scornfully. "You think you can get out of everything? I bet you do. I bet you've been flashing your cute little face around your whole life to get yourself out of trouble."

Chelsea rubbed at her bleeding lip, trying to keep herself from lashing out at him for his words.

"And what about that boy you worked with at the store? Don't think I didn't see the way you were looking at him. You'd open your whoring legs for him at any second."

That was it for Chelsea.

"That's not true!"

"Don't bother denying it," Stan goaded. "You've probably opened them for half the boys in your school like the little slut you are."

"You _liar!_" the girl screamed, her face red with anger. "I'm a virgin!"

Stan had to restrain himself from smiling.

_Just what I wanted to hear._

A few tense seconds passed. Chelsea suddenly felt sick when she saw the look in Stan's eyes. Then, he took a few slow steps towards her.

"Good," he said in a chillingly calm voice. "That'll make it all the more better for me."

The moment Chelsea realized what Stan intended to do, she immediately tried to get up. But Stan quickly pounced on her.

"_No!_" she screamed as he turned her over and pinned her wrists behind her back. "No, get _away_ from me!"

Stan ignored her. He was easily able to subdue her struggles as he used his free hand to yank off the girl's sweatpants. When he tried to do the same with her underwear, Chelsea squirmed with all her might.

"Please don't!" she begged as the underwear was ripped away. "_Stop it!_"

She didn't bother to hold back her tears as she heard him undo his belt and unzip his pants.

It took a little while for Stan to prepare himself. He was determined to go through with it, but he was actually a bit nervous. Much like Chelsea, he was also a virgin. He'd never even gone out on a date with someone. Still, that fact had never really bothered him until now. His anger returned as he stared at the back of Chelsea's head.

_If we went to school together, she never would have given me a second glance._

After about a minute, Stan was ready. He forced her legs apart and lifted her thighs onto his lap.

"No, _please_…" Chelsea whispered, tears flowing from her eyes as she felt him at her entrance.

But her pleading went unheard. She let out a horrid cry as Stan roughly pushed himself into her. Chelsea felt pain unlike anything she'd ever felt in her life. No matter how much she desperately tried to get away, it was no use. The only thing she could do was try to keep still and wait until it was over.

Stan squeezed the girl's shoulder and bent over her, resting his other hand against her back. This was what he needed. Seeing Chelsea in the worst kind of pain possible completely renewed his energy. Eventually, the girl's cries started getting annoying, so Stan moved his hand from her shoulder to the back of her neck, pressing her face into the mattress.

Fortunately for Chelsea, it wasn't long before it was over. After the hand on her neck finally let up, she crawled forward and buried her face in her arms, releasing her sobs. But Stan didn't intend to leave her alone just yet. Once he finished rearranging himself, he crawled over the quaking girl and grabbed her head, making her look at him.

"Still think I can't do anything worse?" he hissed in her face, leaning closer when she didn't answer right away. "Huh? _Do you?_"

"_No!_" Chelsea wailed. "No, no, I _don't!_"

More than satisfied with this, Stan released her and rose to his feet. After staring at his crying captive for a few more seconds, he finally left. Chelsea curled into a ball as the lights in the room turned off. She cupped her center, trying to dull the pain. That made it worse. It was as if the hurt would never leave, inside or out.

After a few hours of crying, Chelsea's eyes finally started to get heavy. She welcomed sleep like an old friend, desperate to escape her torturous world.

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_**Yeah, sooooo…feel free to review.**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Hello again. Good grief, I'm so sorry it took this long, but nevertheless, I hope you like it. Read on and enjoy =)**_

**IMMORTAN-JOES-FIRST-BREEDER-**** Why, thank you!**

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It took a little while for Chelsea's eyes to adjust to the light shining through the tiny window. Things were blurry for a few seconds before the realization of being awake came upon her. She eventually started to sit up, but was halted by a sharp pain in her gut. It soon spread up to her lip and down to her privates. At first, the girl was confused. However, it didn't take long for her to remember the horrid events of the previous day. She felt the sting of his hand connecting with her face, the rough feeling of her comfy pants being yanked away, and him…just _him_, forcing himself into her without a care in the world.

_Oh, God…_

All of a sudden, it felt as if she were covered in mud. It took Chelsea a few tries, but she was able to get up and stumble over to the rusty sink. She turned on the faucet, ran her fingers under the water, and reached down to clean herself. It stung horribly at first, but after a few moments went by, it began to soothe her a bit. Still, despite the blood and grime that was leaving her skin, something even more disgusting remained. An awful feeling of shame latched itself onto her, and no matter how hard she rubbed her wet hands against herself, it wouldn't go away. Those torturous memories would never leave.

She eventually gave up, but before going back to the mattress, her eyes skimmed the room for her underwear and sweatpants. They were nowhere to be found.

_Stan must've taken them while I was sleeping._

Her eyes quickly teared up at the thought of him being in the room while she wasn't even awake, at the very thought of him. Never had she encountered such a monster. Part of her insides knotted up as she remembered back to the previous week.

_Yeah, I guess he's a monster of my own creation._

Though Chelsea didn't want to blame herself, pain was all she could focus on. There was no way to restrain her weeping as she wandered to the mattress and eased herself onto it, nor was there a way to find a comfortable position to lie down in. Ultimately, the poor girl chose to settle onto her side, facing away from the door. She knew the monster would come in at some point, but she prayed it wouldn't be for a while. But when a creaking sound reached her ears a few seconds later, it was obvious that God wasn't feeling merciful.

She couldn't move for a moment. It was as if her bones would implode at the slightest touch. However, when the footsteps reached the side of the mattress and stopped there, she glanced behind her. The sight of Stan lowering himself onto his knees and crawling towards her like the sewer rat he was made something snap within Chelsea. She tried to get up, but her abductor was much quicker than she expected him to be.

"Let go," she begged when he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back. "No, get away!"

The girl was close to hyperventilating at this point. The thought of being assaulted again was too awful to even process, and all she could do was panic. But Stan merely looped both his arms around her and drew her in.

"Shh, easy."

Chelsea squirmed as viciously as possible, but she wasn't a match for the older man. Though his behavior the day before was terrifying enough, this scared her too. He was obviously trying to trick her. The closeness of their bodies didn't sit well with her either, but eventually, her strength slipped away.

"That's it," Stan breathed, raising a hand to cup the back of the girl's head. "It's all right. I'm not angry anymore."

_What…? It's like I'm being released from a time-out!_

She was frozen. This odd occurrence had slowed her breathing, but her tears hadn't stopped. They were starting to make a wet spot on Stan's shirt. Things stayed like this a few minutes longer before the man spoke up.

"You're sorry, aren't you? For what you did?"

Chelsea was too shocked to react.

_I'm sorry? __**I'm**__ sorry? You raped me, and you're expecting __**me **__to apologize?_

She considered not answering, but those arms slowly tightened around her body like an anaconda around a pig.

"Chelsea?"

"Yes, I…I'm sorry."

The situation was to frightening for her to rebel anymore, but she hated herself for giving in. Still, when Stan's grip slackened, it was a good sign that she would at least live a bit longer. After a few more seconds, he leaned back and reached into his pocket.

"Now, lay down on your back."

"Why?" she asked, suddenly petrified again.

But then, she saw the tube of ointment in his hand. It looked like some sort of antibiotic.

"This'll make you feel better."

The girl's apprehensiveness compelled her to revert into the submissive persona she'd developed during her captivity.

"Oh, thank you," she muttered, tentatively moving onto her back and reaching out her own hand. "But I can do it myself."

Stan's face tightened a bit.

"I'm going to do it." The tension seemed to go away just as quickly as it came. "Don't worry, I'll be gentle."

Surprisingly, he kept his word. In fact, whenever Chelsea winced at a particularly sore spot, Stan eased the movements of his finger and added an extra dab of the gel. After a couple of minutes, it was done.

"Can I have my pants and underwear back?" The man glanced at her while twisting the cap back on. "Please?"

"No, you can't. You tried to get away, so you're losing a privilege."

Her heart burned with rage at this, but she kept calm. Still, how dare he treat her this way? After what he'd already done to her, returning those pants was the least he could do.

_At least he's leaving now._

But she was to be disappointed again. Once he'd put the ointment back into his pocket, Stan sat in front of the girl and glanced at her almost expectantly.

"Thank you," she said, praying that he'd depart upon hearing it. "I appreciate this."

The older man had an eerie calmness about him as he replied.

"I think you should thank me in a different way."

Chelsea's insides ached with dread, and she wondered why he couldn't just leave her alone. But his next words only worsened the feeling.

"I'd like a kiss."

The poor girl felt disgust churning down her spine. She'd maintained her composure, but this was too much.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head.

"Do you want me to leave?"

"_Yes._"

"All you need to do is kiss me." Chelsea hesitated, which made Stan lean closer to her. "Unless you'd like more of what happened last night…"

"No, _no!_" That was the reaction he really wanted. "Please, don't."

"Then do it."

After waiting a little bit, the girl closed her eyes and made herself lightly peck one of her captor's scarred cheeks. She wrapped her arms around herself, but the man's expression became more serious.

"You know that's not the kind of kiss I was referring to."

By now, Chelsea had started crying again. She couldn't stomach the idea of having to kiss him, especially after her attack.

"Stop stalling," Stan snapped. "It would be over by now if you'd obeyed when I first asked."

With every moment, it was becoming quite clear that he wasn't going to leave until he got what he wanted. Despite the revulsion in her gut, Chelsea leaned forward and forced her lips to slightly brush his. But before she could pull back, his hand darted out to cup the back of her neck, and she was suddenly weighed down onto her back.

Stan loved how sweet she tasted, and her squeals of protest only made things better. It didn't take long to push past her lips with his tongue, despite her vain efforts to prevent it. He let himself soak in every second of this that he possibly could. Though he'd gone his whole life without kissing anyone, he never put much thought into how wonderful it was. Now, it was like a drug he couldn't get enough of. Pretty soon, the girl's cries became annoying, and he made himself end the kiss.

Chelsea turned away as soon as she was able, trying to forget how disgusted she felt. Stan had not only stolen her virginity, but he also had to take her first kiss away. It was supposed to be sweet. Brian might've had some experience, but then again, maybe he would have been awkward like her. He probably tasted like bubble gum. After all, he chewed enough of it. He could never possibly taste like rotting teeth, like Death in the flesh and blood.

"Was that so bad?" asked Stan, breaking her out of her thoughts. "Hmm?"

"No."

She didn't want to bring more pain onto herself, and by now, she was desperate to make him leave. But he leaned over her a little while longer.

"No, what?"

"No, it wasn't bad. It was the best in the whole history of kisses! Is that what you want to hear?"

"Ah, ah!" The man laid a finger against her lips. "Don't be rude, Chelsea."

Oh, how she wanted to spit in his miserable decaying face. But she lost the window of opportunity upon him leaning down to rest his face against her neck for a few seconds. All she could do was freeze.

Then, out of nowhere, Stan released her, rose to his feet, and left.

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_**Let me know what you think.**_


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